


Phantom Pleasures

by wings128



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mind Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings128/pseuds/wings128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lorne has a fantasy lover, or should that be phantasy…?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phantom Pleasures

Lorne was in the Mess when it happened. Cadman and Rivers were stealing dinner from each other’s trays, while Parrish tapped busy fingers over the screen of his palmpod; the four of them a tiny island of companionable silence amid the din.

He was pretty sure that no one noticed the moan that escaped him. It was loud to his ears if no one else’s. But he could wave it off by commenting on how good the Salisbury steak was tonight, rich and tender, and just like how his mom made it.

That was his story and he’d stick to it. It wasn’t like he’d admit to feeling the distinct pressure of a hand sliding hot and knowing up over his abs, to twist his right nipple. Gooseflesh pebbled his arms and legs, skin prickling with sudden heat. Lorne slipped a finger inside his collar and tugged, swallowed hard around a half-chewed mouthful. 

Lorne side-eyed Parrish, but the botanist might as well have been back in his lab for all the attention he paid the team. His potatoes congealed on his tray. Lorne mourned the waste of good food sacrificed to whatever crusade Parrish was heralding that week, when a warm wet sensation suckled his left nipple. His knee slammed against the table leg but the pain, bright and sharp, had already ebbed when Cadman raised a questioning brow in Lorne’s direction.

Unable to form coherent speech, Lorne dismissed her concern with an abrupt shake of his head. His scalp tingled and the handles of his utensils bit into his palms as he gripped them tight. Knuckles white with the effort to get his dick to lay the hell down. But the sensations hadn’t eased off. If anything, they’d intensified. Lorne would’ve bet a month’s pay that someone – or something – was acting out some serious foreplay. 

There was no denying the sensation of two exploring hands and skilled mouth that steadily worked their way along his collarbone and up his neck to his clenched jaw. Fuck, Lorne wanted to close his eyes, arch back, and enjoy the ride. 

Lorne’s knee whacked the table leg again. He leaped to his feet, his chair screeched across the tiles in protest; cutting off any concern Cadman would have voiced. 

“I’ve gotta…” He mumbled, and fled. The weight of seventy pairs of eyes burning between his shoulders only added to the hot pressure of the phantom palm grazing over the curve of his ass.

Fuck! He had to get to his quarters, and fast. Lorne headed for the nearest transporter, praying no one would stop him. The idea of being prevented from lying naked on his bed while he was pleasured was too painful for words.

Lorne slapped a palm on the transporter screen and moaned in both relief and want. The hands were growing impatient, desperate for what Lorne was only too eager to imagine. 

The doors slid open and Lorne lifted his head from the burnt red panelling. Sweat dampened his hairline, and everything around him had a fuzzy outline. He was so fucking close and Lorne’d be damned if he was going to come in his uniform, while stumbling down the hallway of an alien city in a galaxy far from home. 

As if the … entity had heard and understood Lorne’s thoughts, he felt an intoxicating rush of pleasure as the hands parted the globes of his ass, and a finger delved where no finger had been in far too long. Lorne stumbled, knees wobbly and palms slick as he gripped the wall in support. He bit into the soft flesh of his bottom lip. The sting centred him and he shuddered a deep breath, chest tight with the effort of staying silent.

It was madness. 

It was agonizing bliss. 

And no small amount of fear. 

He was going to have to report this. 

And the thought of Sheppard’s reaction…

Lorne moaned, loud and unrestrained; no longer concerned about being overheard. Oh God, Sheppard, and those long fingered hands of his; strong wiry forearms with delicate wrists. Lorne had fantasized about his CO’s hands on him ever since he’d arrived on Atlantis and shook the Colonel’s hand.

It couldn’t be…could it? 

This was Pegasus after all, and stranger things had happened. 

Did happen.

Two, three times a week.

Lorne made it to his quarters. The doors whispered shut behind him as he yanked his shirts up over his head, and shoved his BDUs down to the tops of his boots. He gasped, breath stolen by the feel of a eager cock against his hole. The cool of the room was a shocking contrast to the heat of the body grinding behind him, fingers digging into the cut of his hips.

“Yes! Just…oh _fuck!_ ” Lorne groaned, pleaded. His own hands gripped tight to the back of the white leather chair, ass shoved out into nothing; body jittery, anxious, and desperate for more.

He dropped his head onto the backs of his hands and panted. Fear chased sparks of want up and down his spine, lit a fire under his skin, while soothing fingertips traced his shoulder blades, and hot breath ghosted his nape.

Lorne couldn’t take much more, was set to come from the strangeness alone, when the phantom cock breached him. Hands held him still, his bare ass pushed out toward an empty room, as he tried to circle into the unrelenting pressure that filled him so completely. Everything he’d longed for in one insistent slide; tight and hot and thick, and grazing over his prostate. Lorne whimpered his need. He was alone. No one could hear him, right? But it seemed as if he _could_ be heard, because he was being thrust against the chair; its stitched edge pressing into his chest as his invisible lover fucked him hard. Slow drag out, fast thrust in; just how Lorne liked it.

“Sheppard!” Lorne yelled, didn’t care if anyone overheard. If this was all he ever got of his CO, he was goddamn well going to enjoy every minute of it; before Weir locked him up to await a psyche eval.

“Harder, Sir!” Lorne whispered, throat dry as dust as he caught sight of his reflection; shadowed in hues of cool blue and midnight purple in the full length windows. 

He was a sight; body arched in bliss, hobbled by bunched fabric and boots. His eyes wide and stunned as he ground back onto fantasy-Sheppard’s cock.

“I’m close, Sir!” Lorne exclaimed, beyond reason or logic. “Please, Sir!”

Lorne felt hot breath ruffle the soft hairs at the back of his neck, and shuddered as a hand slid down to pump the angry shaft between his legs. He shunted into the grip, shoved back to impale himself and took all Sheppard had to give. Lorne was done. Everything was too sudden and potent to resist a minute longer. 

He watched himself come. His reflection offering the illusion that he was not alone; that in that moment, his lover _was_ buried balls deep inside him. Lorne’s body squeezed tight around Sheppard’s, and pulled the other man over into rapture with him.

“Evan!”

Lorne knew he’d imagined the hoarse cry against his ear. It couldn’t have been Sheppard’s voice harsh with release while fingers slick with Lorne’s come soothed them both down.

He stayed where he was, even after he felt his lover pull free; felt emptiness consume and fill him. The devastation and the loneliness, was too much to tackle in the shudders of their aftermath.

Lorne turned and slid down the chair back to the floor. The tile cold beneath his bare ass, knees splayed, ankles still bound. How would he face Sheppard in the morning? Would Sheppard already know? Surely Lorne hadn’t been alone in this?

~^~

John came out of the chair’s trance with the usual fuzzy logic clouding his mind. The calibration alterations McKay had declared urgent enough to keep John from his dinner were completed, though John recalled nothing of that. Lorne, Evan, had claimed all of John’s attention tonight.

He looked down the length of his black clad body lying limp in the contours of the control chair. He shivered with the echoes of his release; the shape of Lorne’s hips pressed into his palms. It wasn’t the first time John had been aroused by the power of the city thrumming through every cell in his body. And it wasn’t the first time he’d fantasized about the major. Those blue blue eyes and amused smirk drove John to distraction every moment Lorne was around him. 

Two years in, and John still couldn’t get over how hot Lorne was. But rules were rules, and though there were many John had bent, fractured, and outright snapped in two, the _Chain of Command_ was untouchable.

John sighed, shifted with a grimace at the mess in his boxers; but damn if that hadn’t been the best orgasm of his life! He couldn’t lie – Lorne calling him _Sir_ like that, yeah, that had been hot. John stroked the arm of the chair and felt it purr under his touch like a kitten. Perhaps he could talk McKay into letting him make more upgrades tomorrow night. 

John pushed himself up out of the chair; its lights dimming the further he got from it. Maybe he should stop by Lorne’s quarters, remind him about the staff meeting at ten. A residual shudder worked its way down his spine, and John felt a blush heat his cheeks as he entered the transporter and tapped the screen.

Lorne was still on the floor with his back to the chair when his door chimed. He startled, confused as to how to react. It was the second less patient chime that got him to his feet, tugging up his pants before he palmed the door control to green. 

He couldn’t draw breath. His lungs constricted by his ribs and the pounding tattoo of his heart.

“Sir?” He croaked.

Sheppard’s hair was mussed more than usual, like he’d been running his fingers through it; though his arms hung limp at his sides.

“Lorne.” Sheppard answered, his eyes wide; their pupils feasting on the hazel-gold surrounding them. “I…just…”

“You’d better come in, Sir.” Lorne stepped aside to let Sheppard cross the threshold, and didn’t miss the way his CO’s gaze tracked the flex of his chest before dragging back up to Lorne’s face.

“Everything okay, Sir?” Lorne was forced to ask after the doors slid closed and the room was smothered in a mocking silence.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sheppard seemed to shake himself back from wherever his thoughts had taken him. 

Lorne blushed; wondered if they were anywhere in the neighbourhood of his own. 

“Meeting at ten, remember.”

“Yes, Sir.” Lorne had forgotten, but considering his evening no one could blame him.

Sheppard nodded, seemed about to turn away when Lorne reached out, grip firm but hesitant at the crook of Sheppard’s elbow.

“John.”

His CO froze and Lorne felt his stomach plummet into his boots, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop; not now that he’d taken this step.

“Evan.” John whispered, felt heat flare beneath the gentle stroke of the other man’s thumb on his forearm. 

The all-important line was looming fast on their shared horizon, and John honestly didn’t know if he could cross it. But Evan was there with him; seemed willing, even if neither of them had asked the question. Don’t ask don’t tell. Training so engrained, even here; in a distant galaxy, in an alien city, in a locked room, with a man John trusted his life to every single day.

And yeah, John knew he’d crossed the line. He knew it the moment Evan stepped close and kissed his way past John’s defences, into the wet heat of John’s eager willing mouth.


End file.
